


Drunken Chess

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Chess, F/M, Feelings, I Blame Tumblr, Imagine your OTP, Realization, and a little angst for good measure, and the random prompts that come across my dash, but not a lot, cheating at chess, drunken chess, ichabbie - Freeform, it's practically microscopic, just a tiny smidgen of angst I promise, playing chess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunken chess was always interesting.  Not because of the drinking itself, per se, but because after a few drinks they started shamelessly cheating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Chess

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post titled: You know what's probably more fun that playing chess? Cheating at chess. 
> 
> Managed to use the four examples and threw in a couple of my own.

Drunken chess was always interesting. Not because of the drinking itself, per se, but because after a few drinks they started shamelessly cheating. Ichabod would go fetch more beers, Abbie would steal his queen off the board and say she ran away.

“She felt your king was pompous and over taxed the kingdom so she came over to my side to get down with my knight, who then convinced my king to usurp your king's power,” Abbie said, holding up the two pieces and making them do a little dance. “Checkmate.”

Abbie would excuse herself to “go to the little girl's room”... Ichabod rearranged several pieces and sat calmly in wait for her return. When she sat back down she arched a critical brow at him. “What the hell?”

“Whilst you were away,” Ichabod lightly responded. “The six pieces you captured slipped their guard, tunnelled to safety and emerged right in the middle of your palace.” Abbie's jaw dropped and she gawked loudly. “Checkmate.”

The games would endure well into the early morning light, each game meeting a sillier end than the one before. Finally the weaving witnesses would make their way to the sofa and would either fall asleep watching telemundo or accidentally turn on the French version of whatever film Ichabod had been watching on Netflix. 

They never could figure out why they had a drunken fascination with television in foreign languages.

  
#  


Abbie bit her knuckles, giggling as Ichabod dug into his trouser pocket with one hand, and holding up a finger with the other. He fished out a handful of items from his pocket and scattered them on the table next to her fallen pieces. After surveying the loot he shot her a flirtatious smirk before plucking a thimble from the mess.

He brushed his hair away from his face and held the thimble up for her to see. “I realize it appears I am putting a thimble upon the board. However, my rooks have been using their downtime to build this new rook. She is better, she is faster... she is stronger... and far more formidable opponent to your _bishop_. Not even your Queen is a capable adversary... even _after_ her journey of self-discovery and finding her inner goddess.”

Abbie threw her head back and howled with laughter. 

They woke up the next morning in a tangle of crocheted blanket and limbs, squinted at the tv, and wondering why it was shouting at them in German.

  
#  


Abbie surveyed her pieces with the kind of intensity only a a drunk person could have. She still had her king, queen, a knight, and several pawns. After a soft sigh, she gave Ichabod her best Disney princess eyes she could muster. “I hate to say this... but...” she indicated her pawns. “My pawns all found Jesus and so now they're all Bishops.”

“That's not fair!” Ichabod gapped.

Abbie tilted her head and gawked at her fellow witness. “Who am _I_ to deny their spiritual path?”

Ichabod sighed in defeat. “Very well.”

She moved one of her newly ordained Bishop Pawns. “Checkmate. Go grab a couple of beers, I'll set up the next game.”

It was really weird waking up on the living room floor, fully clothed, with cheery little anime characters speaking Japanese.

  
#  


Abbie snorted, trying to cover her laugh.

“You...” Ichabod huffed indignantly, pacing restlessly at his side of the table. He wagged a finger at her and the game. “It may very well appear you have cornered my king, _Miss Mills_.” He put his hands on the table and leaned over, peering at her dangerously. “Perhaps now would be a good time to make mention of the fact that, shortly before we started this game, my pawns and knights revolted and instituted a representative democracy. So feel free to capture this... vanguard.” He jutted his hand toward his king. “This... remaining vestige of the tyranny we had to over come, you cringing servant of the crown! _Vive la revolution!_ ”

Abbie started laughing so hard she fell out of her chair.

As they settled into the mass of blankets and pillows they set up on the floor, Abbie grabbed the remote to turn up the volume on one of her favourite Ang Lee films. She didn't even mind that it was in Mandarin and... for some unknown reason she couldn't get the subtitles to work. 

She just knew she enjoyed waking up with Ichabod's arms wrapped around her, his face nuzzled in her hair, and wondered if he felt the same as she did.

  
#  


For once, their drinking and playing chess was quite subdued. Abbie had lost three games and was on the verge of losing a fourth. They had barely even finished one beer. Ichabod drew in a deep breath, picked up his king. “My king has been a dear friend to your queen for years and feels she is undeserving of a king which does not recognize her vivaciousness nor truly appreciate her intelligence and hard work at building up her kingdom.”

The small beginnings of a smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. “Oh? And what does your king plan on doing about it?” Abbie asked. 

He plucked up her king then tossed it over his shoulder. “Now that her king has decided to bug off... my king plans to do as he has always done.”

“Talk non-stop about everything except for how he feels about her?”

There was a brief panic in his eyes but then he shook his head. “My king would never profess his feelings when your queen is in an obvious state of vulnerability. It would be as underhanded as the behaviour of the prior king.” He lightly placed his king next to her queen, shifting it slightly so the two pieces were occupying the same space. “Instead he would... make certain she knows he would be a willing and patient shoulder for her to lean upon in her time of need. And he would anticipate nor expect anything for treating her with the utmost respect she deserves.”

Abbie lightly traced the edges of the tiny cross atop his king with her fingertip. “But what if... the prior king realized my queen had feelings for your king? And, instead of being jealous and underhanded, he bowed out gracefully. And now she's just... waiting for your king to give some kind of indication that he wants more with her. Because, while she doesn't want to just have a string of kings that leave... she isn't going to sit around waiting forever.”

Ichabod swallowed hard and gazed at the two pieces. “What if... he is terrified he would be incapable of making her happy?”

Abbie smiled. “That's just it,” she said quietly, pushing his king a little bit closer to her queen. “He already makes her happy. That scares her more than anything because everything that ever made her happy has left her. Even he left her for a while...”

“Because he was a coward who felt so unworthy of her,” Ichabod replied, barely above a whisper. “That he felt the need to find some small, solid, fact that he could present to her to show that they needed to not only retain their bond but perhaps find ways to strengthen it.”

“She can accept that,” Abbie said with a nod. “But she's still terrified that she might lose him again.”

Ichabod shook his head. “No,” he replied firmly. “Nothing short of death could remove him from her side this time.”

Abbie pursed her lips then nudged her queen into the centre of the square and plucked his king off of the board. “My queen has officially captured your king. Checkmate.”

“Oh, well, how could he not get captured? She has such a beautiful heart and her smile just... makes him helpless to resist her charms.”

The next morning, Abbie stretched languidly as the sun shined through the sun room windows. She retrieved Ichabod's shirt from the night before from the foot of the bed and pulled it on. A smile went to her lips as she flopped back onto the pillow that still smelled of _them_ and enjoyed the sound of Ichabod's voice echoing from the kitchen, singing an Italian love song.


End file.
